Write about: the final shift.
Because hurray, no more nights at the gym!
As a final parting gift, members were kind enough to clear out of the gym by 8:45 tonight. Normally people are working out until I shut off the music a couple minutes before 9, so it was nice to actually get out of there at a reasonable time for once.
Earth is always moving. It constantly rotates on its axis while revolving around the sun, pirouetting silently through space. The waters filling its oceans are never still. Tectonic plates are colliding, brushing against each other, ever shuffling and shifting.
So far these shifts have been, relatively speaking, quite minor. Certainly many lives have been lost, massive cities have been decimated, but the scale has remained small. This cannot continue forever, we know this.
There will come a time for the great, final shift. A deafening thunder will rush across the planet's surface, the ground beneath our feet will convulse violently. Great fissures will open their jaws, swallowing us whole even as the demons of Hell slip from their dark cages and cavort in the streets of our crumbling cities.
Thick, black, choking smoke will block out the sun. Our cool, watery rivers will be replaced by rushing flows of searing magma. Life, as we know it today, will be no more.
But that day, that horrendous final shift is still far away. There is no need to panic; we have time.
At least, we think we do...